The Other Demigod Diaries
by MortalOracle
Summary: I'm sure you've heard of the first one. The handbook like anecdote collection so wonderfully crafted by Camp Half-Blood's scribe. Rick. He's a nice guy, actually. This isn't like that at all. This is my personal account, taken straight from my journals and turned into an entertaining—and educational—guide to make it alive to camp. Although, thinking back, I didn't do so good…
1. Prologue, The Fire

_I was in the bathroom when the alarm sounded._

 _When it shattered the silence like a stone through soundproof glass, I flinched. The bloody piece of toilet paper that was staunching my nose fell to the ground, leaving a smear of red on the tile. No time to care about that now. This wasn't a drill. I could tell. This was a fire. An actual fire. I could feel the freezing panic working its way throughout my chest like wire through clockwork._

 _I had to get out. Of course, I thought, running towards the door, this is just my luck. The only person in the basement besides the creepy custodian. His name was McShore and he was the monster lurking in the basement halls. He hated kids. And he was a racist. His favorite name for me was "the ching chong—"well, I'd better not finish that. I wouldn't be surprised if he had tried to trap me down there._  
Oh yeah. Sorry. I'm Erin Kahn. (Yes, like Genghis Kahn. I know, I know) And this is the _other_ demigod diaries.

I'm sure you've heard of the first one. The handbook like anecdote collection so wonderfully crafted by Camp Half-Blood's scribe. Rick. He's a nice guy, actually.

This isn't like that at all. This is my personal account, taken straight from my journals and turned into an entertaining—and _educational—_ guide to make it alive to camp. Although, thinking back, I didn't do so good… Anyway. Back to the basement of Orlando Glade Middleschool, under the eighth grade classrooms.

I was running down the halls, and the gradually heating air made my skin tingle. I could smell smoke, a glowing orange flicker in the ceiling caught my eye. Of course the fire was right above me. Great. I looked down the hall way and saw McShore, in his beige uniform, a bucket of greasy water in tow. He was holding his mop like a weapon, and his normally perfectly curled pumpkin locks stuck to his face in a wavy glob. His eyes held nothing but hatred when he looked at me, but he turned around as soon as I approached, and seemed to be surveying the area. His mop was completely dry. The air was becoming cloudy and sections of the ceiling were beginning to crumble into ash.

"Why aren't you moving?" I yelled. Impulsive tears ran down my cheeks. It was my body's way of trying to get the smoke and ash from my eyes. When I wiped the wetness from my skin, by cheek burned. My sleeve came away bloody. My nosebleed. I saw my finger's trembling and even though I felt strangely calm, I knew I was terrified. But I crushed my feelings down into the pit of my stomach and let them congeal along with my anger at McShore for not leaving the building.

Obviously he was mentally shortened. It was all up to me. I would have to find a way out alone. I started scanning my surroundings. The basement exit was on the other side, down a badly lit hallway. However, now it was glowing fluorescent orange with the burning ceiling chunks of death. Fun.

The stairs were inaccessible.

How did a fire even spread this fast?

I would soon get my answer.

A strong hand clamped on my shoulder, and the fingers seemed to dig into my flesh. I tried to duck away, but another hand wrapped it's rough fingers around my throat. McShore turned around, his eyes wide. His sweat stained mop handle slipped in his shaky hands as he tried to stab whatever had grabbed me. I stared straight at his face. I didn't want to turn around. A crunching sound from below made me wince and him scream. He fell to the ground, where more crunching promptly followed.

I turned around, and what I saw made my heart stop.

His arms were thick and scaly, but roughly humanoid. He had two lizard-like feet, complete with suction cups and long claws. He had a person's face, but it was made out of the same silvery black scales as the rest of him. His eyes glowed a harsh amber. And in those eyes, beyond the black reptilian pupils, I recognized someone: my math teacher.

And that is what convinced me to run.

It took a few minutes for Mr. Scotts to catch on, but eventually he did and I heard his thundering footsteps chasing me. I ran down the fiery hallway, and realized the door was barricaded. I cursed under my breath. The only way out now was down to the boiler room. I ducked behind a row of lockers and hoped Scotts would leave. My breathing was almost as loud as my heartbeat, and the blood roaring in my ears. I started to come up with a plan.

I looked back the way I had run from behind the lockers, and saw the now hazy and smoky figure of Mr. Scotts bent over…oh, God, was that McShore? He was eating the dead body of McShore. His legs were splayed across the floor, oozing blood and spread at odd, unnatural angles. The crunching. That had been his bones. And even though I had always hated the custodian's guts, I felt a strange twinge of sadness. But a larger one of disgust.

Maybe it was the fact I had just witnessed murder, run a long distance, was terrified, or thought I was going to die, but I threw up. Yep. All over the floor behind the lockers in the basement of my burning school. Luckily, it was mostly bile.

I had a thought: what if I climbed into one of the lockers? But, no, I'd just get melted. Or crushed. Or killed in some other way. Not the best idea. That's when I decided: the boiler room was the best way to go.

I ran down the steps, took a left, and entered the boiler room. Huge heating tanks lined the walls, and the floor, walls, and ceiling were all brown stone. Everything was completely silent. Until the hissing began.

At first I thought it was the monster. Then I turned and realized it was the monster…slashing a hole in one of the tanks. Steam filled the air, and I could feel the burns forming on my face. The monster darted around between the clouds of steam, slashing more and more tanks. I covered my face and tucked my hands into my sleeves. I sunk to the floor against the wall. I couldn't see anything, I couldn't breathe, I was in pain. It was over.

 _I'm never getting out._

I was almost relieved when I felt the monster's claw against my cheek, its scaly fingers wrapping around my throat, lifting me off the ground…

"Do you know how much those cost?!"

 _Shink!_

I dropped down and felt my head collide with something hard. Warm liquid oozed down into my mouth, and it tasted coppery. Dust hit me in the face, making me shut my eyes.

The smoke finally got to my brain, and I let go.


	2. Chapter 1, I'm (Apparently) Not Dead

When I woke up, I was in the hospital. I had a cotton ball up my nose (thanks, Lauren—she was my nurse, according to the plaque on my bedside table), and a clear, jelly-like substance all over my face. My hands were bandaged.

"Oh, good, you're awake. We can leave soon," a girl's voice said. A boy answered.

"Lex, don't rush her. She literally _just_ woke up."

"Uh-huh, so she should be ready to move."

"Don't you think we should explain the situation?"

"Uh, no. She wouldn't get it."

I cut in. "Excuse me, _she_ is right here."

They both dropped silent.

I looked towards the door, and saw two kids standing within the frame. A white boy with curly, dirty blonde hair and incredibly green eyes, and a black girl with very long black hair that was straightened and in a braid down her back. The boy smiled at me. The girl looked like she didn't know what to think.

"Hi, Erin," the boy said.

"How do you know my name?" I was instantly on guard.

He pulled a half-melted lump of plastic from his pocket.

"Your student ID. I'm Colin, by the way. And this is Alexa."

Alexa managed a small, rigid, two-fingered salute.

"Hey," she said.

 _I know that voice._

"…Hi? Where am I?"

Colin looked like he was thinking.

"Oregon Glade hospital."

I had only been to this hospital once before, when my stepsister, Emily, broke her wrist on the junglegym (she's five). Speaking of Emily…

"Are my parents here?" My mom, Hee, had married a guy named William and had Emily after my birth father died. I never met him (Well, I've met Will, not my father).

Alexa and Colin exchanged a look. "Uh…no," Colin said. "They don't know you're here. They…kind of think you're dead."

" _What?_ Let me call them! My mom is probably freaking out right now!"

"…We can't," Colin said.

"And why is that?"

"Because we have to take you to New York. In fact, its your fault were not there already," Alexa said. "If you didn't exist, we'd be on Long Island right now. Thanks for ruining our vacation."

I recognized her biting tone. _"Do you know how much those cost?!"_

"Lex! Stop being so rude. She's probably in shock right now, after the _drakos anthropo,_ she might have a messed up sense of reality."

 _Drakos anthropo._

Dragon man.

How did I understand that?

There was no doubt about it; Mr. Scotts was a _drakos anthropo._

Colin turned to me. "How _are_ you feeling, anyway?"

"Okay," I answered.

Alexa flashed an ambitious grin. "Great! Then we can leave."

Colin rolled his eyes. "Sure, let's go."

I raised my hand. "How are you going to check me out? I mean, you're not related to me, so…"

Alexa laughed. "Oh, no, it's fine. I can convince them. Stay in here for a few minutes."  
I got out of bed and walked to the mirror over a sink. I stared at my face, which looked fine, except for about twenty circular white scars. My burn marks from the steam. I was slathered in something that looked and felt like Vaseline. I touched it, and it came away slimy. My fingertips were pink and peeling from burns, but when I shifted the bandages on my hands, it felt like my skin was covered in the same burn-medicine stuff.

I tried to rake my hair down with my fingers while assessing my situation. I was in Oregon Glade Hospital. I had survived the fire, somehow, although I didn't know how. Two kids wanted to take me to New York, and although they didn't seem too dangerous, I wasn't sure I could trust them. However, I had no way to get back to my family without calling the police to take me home. However, those kids could "convince" the police I was fine. Not to mention my family thought I was dead. Did "convincing" involve torture? I was probably better off at least _pretending_ to trust them.

I pulled the cotton ball out of my nose and threw it into the trash bin. No blood leaked. I leaned down and washed my face with cold water, which surprisingly only hurt a little bit. I dried it with a paper towel, and tried to ground myself by focusing on the crinkling sounds of the brown paper. I didn't want to take the bandages off my hands, partially because they still hurt, and partially because of the way they were wrapped: they made me feel like a gangster from an old movie.

I clenched my fists and flexed them, watching my fingers unfold and fold again. I punched at the air, and appreciated the harsh rush of air against my ankle where the hospital gown was shifted up.

"Your form is terrible," I heard Alexa's voice from behind me. "You can't have your thumb under your fingers; you'll break it. That is, if you can hit hard enough. And don't pull back. Follow through. Keep your fingers even so they aren't strained. Put your feet apart. Use your other hand to protect your ribcage, that way it can move up to block your chest and down to block your stomach."

I felt an embarrassed wave in my stomach when I realized she had been watching me, but when I turned, she was leaning against the door frame, her arms crossed in front of her chest, and her face displaying an actual _smile._

She walked over and moved my arms while standing behind me, and positioning my fingers. Her feet nudged mine into the right position. I could smell the authenticity of her leather jacket and another smell, like pine needles at Christmas.

"There. Perfect."

She stood in front of me and held up her hand vertically.

"Try it."

I punched her hand, square in the palm.  
"Good job, I mean, still kind of crappy, but pretty good. C'mon. We're leaving."

Maybe I could end up not hating her.

No one questioned us on the way out. No one even looked up from what they were doing. Colin walked back into the washing room and picked up new clothes for me (my old ones were burned) and let me change in the bathroom. I was wearing a soft black tanktop and dark wash jeans. Cheap clothes. But I could live with that. Most of my clothes were cheap clothes. The car outside was a beat up 2000 Honda Civic Si with chipped maroon pain and scuffed tires. Three long gashes ran down one door, and one of the windows was missing. The jagged glass edges had been covered by duct tape. Alexa unlocked the front door with a manual key, reached back and popped up the lock in the backseat.

"In," she said.

"You're not gonna tie me up?"

"No. Why would we? Do you think we're kidnapping you?"

"Well, you kind of are…"

"Nonsense. Get in."

I did, but then another thought popped into my head.

"Can you even drive?"

"Of course," Alexa responded.

"I meant, is it _legal_ for you to drive."

"Nope, I'm fourteen and license-less. But to be honest, I'm a pretty awesome driver. Buckle up, buttercup."

My buckle snapped over my chest without me touching it. I tried, but couldn't undo it.

"Lex, you're scaring her," Colin said from the passenger seat.

I was outraged. "You _are_ kidnapping me!"

Alexa laughed as she shifted the car into gear and started to pull out of the parking lot.

"In a way."

I growled at her under my breath and settled back into my seat.

After about an hour I fell asleep, and I had the craziest dream I've ever had—and that's saying something.

A pair of dark brown eyes, crinkly with smiling.

The feeling of plunging into cold water.

A girl saying, _we thought you were dead!  
_ Someone hugging me.

A boy's self-righteous smirk.

A glowing blue shard of glass.

A reptilian hiss.

The dizzying feeling of losing consciousness.

Chapped lips.

A shadowy figure next to me on a dock overlooking a lake. Her fingers touch mine.

 _"_ _We've been fighting all day, I think Erin and I will just take a break."_

A hotel bed.

A fanged smile.

Mr. Scotts eyes.

His eyes.

 _His eyes._

I choked on my own scream as I woke up. Colin was staring at me.

"How dignified," I heard Alexa say, looking at me from the mirror.

"Yeah, yeah," I mumbled.

"You okay?" Colin asked.

"…I think so. Hey can we stop somewhere soon?"

"We've already stopped twice. It's nighttime."

"I can see that."

"We can't afford to lose any more time on stops."

"I _will_ pee in your car."

" _DON'T YOU DARE."_

"Gas station. Soon."

Alexa consented, then turned to Colin.

"She's sassy. I like it."

In about another hour we stopped at a gas station and I went pee (it was very satisfying, thanks for asking) and Colin bought me a pack of Ritz crackers. Colin disappeared behind the station for a few minutes while Alexa fueled up the car. When I asked him where he was going, he just answered "IM".

Alexa got in the car when she was done loading it up and pulled over to the grassy part of the lot, which I was pretty sure wasn't legal. She shifted the car out of gear and imprisoned me in my seatbelt again. (I wasn't sure how she did it. I was starting to learn not to question it)

She reclined her seat and put her arms above her head. She hummed as she lay there with her eyes closed. Her voice was pretty, I guess. But the song she was singing was in a creepy, minor key. Colin got back into the passenger seat and she started up the car again, pulling back onto the road.

No one talked as Alexa was navigating traffic, but around one AM people started to realize this was an ungodly hour and just went to their homes. Alexa, however had different ideas. When we hit open, empty highway she sped up and opened the windows. Around hour nine (or so Colin informed me, it was 2 AM) she said pulled over to a gas station, said "Welcome to North Carolina," and dropped her forehead down onto the steering wheel. It took Colin a few seconds to realize she was asleep.

Colin shook her shoulder.

"How about I take over?"

"You can't drive for crap."

"I can try."

This was when I had to intervene.

"Whoa, _whoa._ No. I refuse to be driven by someone who can't drive."

Alexa scowled at me. "You have no say," she turned back to Colin. "And I can still drive, I just—"

"Nope. Get in the passenger seat. I'm doing this."

She nodded as she fell down, asleep again, onto his shoulder.

He nudged her again.  
"I feel horrible for doing this, but, can you put her, you know…"

She nodded and snapped her fingers druggedly.

I fell asleep in just a few minutes, and it was dreamless, which seemed like a blessing after last time.

 _Everything… was… peaceful…_

"HOLY CRAP COLIN PULL OVER!"

I snapped awake as I heard Colin respond.

"What? Why? What's wrong?"

"Your driving is terrible, I need to take back charge."

"Jeez, thanks for scaring me for nothing."

"You're very welcome."

They pulled over and got out, leaving me in the back.

Colin buckled up, and said "Hey, Lex, you up for hyperspace?"

She nodded, but said, "Oh my gods, you're such a nerd. It's not 'hyperspace', I just speed up."

"Yeah, yeah, can you do it, though?"

" 'Course." She looked back at me. "Hold on."

She leaned over the steering wheel and put her foot down on the gas pedal extra hard. She was concentrating on the horizon, and mumbling under her breath.

 _"_ _I̱ mi̱téra mou, dó̱se mou ti̱n tachýti̱ta."_

We sped up so fast, my vision went black.

Long story short, Alexa had complete six hours of driving in one. For which I was unconscious.

When the car crashed, I was conscious, but apparently not Alexa.

Colin yanked the wheel to the right to drive up some hill onto…farmland? He couldn't hit the break, and when we reached the crest of the hill, a sound like shattering glass starting all around us, and electrical currents arced over the windows and down into the tires. I felt the buzzing deep within my bones, but I didn't get shocked. (Which is a good thing)

Colin closed his eyes and hit the emergency button. Air blasted me back onto my seat. The sound of crunching metal followed.

People were yelling, running over, and sorting through the wreckage. An Indian girl—Bengali, I think—grabbed my hand. Her eyes seemed strikingly familiar. I remember her being gorgeous—or maybe I was just freaked out from the crash. I let her pick me up along with the help of someone I couldn't see, and bring me into a low-lying, wooden building.

They put me down onto a cot, and I didn't have time to question how this entire place had just _appeared_ on top of the hill.

The girl smiled at me.

"Welcome to Camp-Half Blood. I promise it's not usually so terrifying."

I wanted to fall asleep. But I couldn't. I hadn't been hurt in the crash (thanks, Colin—no, I'm serious) and I wanted to know what happened to him and Alexa. Also, there was a pretty girl looking after me (I was definitely right when I said she was gorgeous), I couldn't just fall asleep on her. But after a while she left, and after a while of trying to (fruitlessly, I might add) fall asleep, I finally did.


	3. Chapter 2, D&D Strikes Again

I snapped awake to the sound of a conch horn. (I just _knew_ it was a conch horn, don't ask me) I looked around the room I was in, trying to remember where I was. As I looked at the canvas walls, the hospital beds, the dark back room filled with doctor's coats and boxes of ace bandages and bottles of Tylenol. My hands had new bandages, and my shoulder had something new on it: a compression bandage. Had I hurt it? I didn't remember.

Where I was suddenly flashed back into my mind, and I propelled myself into a standing position. I winced when I put weight onto my ankle. _What the heck?_ I remembered the fire, the hospital, Alexa, Colin, the crash, and the cute Bengali girl.

 _"_ _Welcome to Camp Half-Blood. Don't worry, it's not normally this terrifying."_

I think that's what she said.

Yeah, sure. I sat down on the edge of my hospital bed and pulled my knees up to my chin, wrapping my arms around my shins.

What did "Half-Blood" even mean? I was half-Chinese, and that's the only connection I could make. Apparently my birthfather had been white. I wasn't sure what "half" that would make Colin. Maybe something like, half-german half-swedish? Alexa definitely seemed to be one hundred percent black. Bengali girl didn't seem to have anything else in her. I didn't know…

I went back to exploring the room, and saw a yellow post-it note stuck to the bedside table my and the bed next to it shared. I was the only one in the room, so I was pretty sure it wasn't for anyone else. I picked it up, and looked at the messy handwriting in green ink sprawled across the front.

 _You have clothes in the cupboard, but I'm sending someone over to help you change. Also, if they're not there by the conch horn_ (I was right!) _leave for breakfast in whatever you're wearing. I'll meet you there. (Look for the infirmary badge on my shoulder)_

What followed was a horrible drawing of a stick with two lines crisscrossing around it.

 _Hope you feel well soon,_

 _-Austin_

I was _definitely_ not going to dinner in a yellow hospital gown. I'm sorry, however much I pride myself on not caring what clothes I wear or what I look like, this was too much. I went over to the cupboard in the corner, careful to not step to heavily on my right ankle.

And I was not going to let someone else dress me.

The cupboard only had two compartments, and new clothes were in the bottom one. An orange t-shirt, a pair or stretchy black athletic shorts, underwear, a sports bra, socks, and a pair of grey reeboks. I gathered all of them up in my arms and swiveled my head, looking for a bathroom. I didn't trust that back room, and since it was dark and creepy I didn't want to check. The "infirmary" was only one floor, so there was no attic to change in, and I couldn't find a bathroom. I sat on my bed, pulled the hospital curtain around and started to change.

I was fully naked except for my underwear when the door opened. My mine went into hyperdrive, and by the time the curtain was slowly beginning to pull back, I was wearing shorts and the sports bra, as well. The curtain fully pulled back to reveal the Bengali girl, wearing a shirt identical to mine and a pair of jeans.

She kind of stared at me for a few seconds, then let her hand fall to her side.

 _Maybe I'd let_ her _dress me._

"Shut up," I mumbled to myself.

"What?" She said. Her voice was lower than I expected, like mine. She had the voice of a singer, as well. The quality was smooth, kind of like oil on top of water. But when you look at her, you just get this "girly-girl, makeup and flowers"-type vibe, and when she spoke, she sounded normal.

"Nothing, nothing," I realized I wasn't wearing a shirt, and she was still staring at me. The _she_ seemed to realize she was still staring at me. She took a small step back.

"Do you want help, because Austin said you might…"

"No, I'm good."

She started to leave.

" _But,_ " I began, not wanting her to just leave me here alone. "I need someone to lead me to wherever I'm supposed to be."

She walked back over and leaned, putting her hands on the edge of the bed and smirking at me.

"I'm not a life advisor," her voice was quiet.

"I—I know," although I didn't. I didn't know anything about her. "But, you know what I meant."

She stood back up, laughed a little, and said " 'Course. Breakfast."

My stomach rumbled, and I remembered the only things I'd eaten in four days since the fire was a packet of Ritz crackers and some vitamin water.

Someone pounded on the door.

"Maya, can I come in yet?"

I slipped my shirt over my head. "Yeah!" I said.

The pounding stopped. "You're not Maya."

The door opened, and a kid about the same age as Maya and myself walked through. He was tall, had blonde hair and a shirt just like both of us. His eyes were crazy grey, and they were intense, like clouds before a snowstorm.

"Hi, Maya," he said. "Hi, random girl with a…" he stopped and looked at me closer. "Strained shoulder, broken ankle, steam burns, and a typical reaction to quick shock. Oooh, Alexa didn't handle _you_ too gently, did she?"

I was immediately on guard.

"How did you know all that?"

"The way your shoulder is wrapped. You have a splint on your ankle, which means it's broken, not sprained, I can see the burns, and the look in your eyes is making me sad."

Blunt. Okay.

"Also your medical analysis is hanging above your head."

There was a piece of paper above my head on the wall with the same messy green writing.

 _Strained shoulder_

 _Broken ankle, class 2_

 _Steam burns (not dire)_

 _Quick shock_

Maya put a hand over the blonde boy's mouth.

"This is Sam. He's creepy. Say hi, Sam."

Sam waved and made a noise that could've been a muffled "Hi".

I waved back, and started to put on my socks and shoes, fumbling with the ties because of my bandages.

Maya's heads appeared above my shoe and swatted mine away, not meanly, but in a chastising and playful manner. Her fingers flashed over the laces and when they moved to the other shoe, the knot and bow they left behind was perfect. She smiled at me.

"Breakfast it is. You might be about fifteen minutes late, but…whatever. You'll still have a place to sit."

Maya sounded so confident, I had to believe her. She led me out of the infirmary, down a creaky wooden staircase, and into the June heat. Sam ran to go talk to a tall blonde girl, who tried to hit him at one point. But they seemed to be having fun. It was June twelfth, what would've been the last day of school, if it hadn't burned down. No one was paying us any special attention. Maybe because there was hardly anyone out. Most of the noise was coming from directly east, in a roofless, circular ring of columns. As we approached, the noise got louder, and I noticed it was filled with long, benched, wooden tables with different colored tablecloth. I wasn't sure if it was a clique thing or not, because some of the tables seemed to have about twenty or thirty people, where as others only had one or two…or none.

For instance, the table with the black cloth was empty, but the one with the golden-beige was overflowing. The table with shimmering green was empty, and the table with a pale blue cloth had one lonely-looking, seventeen-year-old sitting and eating a bowl of oatmeal. Maya led me over to the gold-beige table, and patted the ground next to the end of the bench. Several kids were already sitting on the ground around the table because there wasn't any room, but no one seemed to find this weird.

"Wait here," Maya said. She got a plate from a stack in the corner, as well as a cup. Food just _appeared_ onto the plate. Like, Harry Potter-style apparition. She threw some of the bread that had appeared into one of the fires in the center. I guess it was moldy. She handed me the cup and said, "What do you want to drink?"

"What are the choices?"

"Anything."

"Uh… root beer?"

"Be specific."

"Barqs."

The cup filled with bubbly, black-brown soda. I took a sip. It tasted incredibly real, almost creepily real.

"It _is_ real," Maya said, almost like she was reading my mind. "Although, I don't know why you'd want soda with breakfast. Here, have some food."

She handed me the plate, which had grilled vegetables and flatbread. _Weird breakfast, indeed._

At least it tasted nice.

I looked around and saw Maya at a table with a bright pinkish-red cloth, and Sam at one with a grey cloth. A few minutes after starting my food, someone cleared their throat. I turned my head to where everyone else had started looking, up at the head table. Three people sat there. Well, one stood. He was freakishly tall, but his legs were obscured by a box on the table in front of him. He had a scruffy, greying brown beard, a white shirt that said…something. It was covered in paint ball paint. The only thing I could decipher said, _Gr-ng—from -rida, Bro! L—e, La—y_ in purple sharpie marker. He was smiling, but had an uneasy look in his eyes.

The man next to him, sitting and drinking a diet coke, looked like my Uncle (On the Miller side) Greg after New Years. With bloodshot eyes, long, greasy black hair, and oily, porous skin. He looked like he had maybe had a _little_ too much champagne before midnight. He wore a faux leopard skin shirt and running pants. He donned white socks with black Nike sandals. He looked like he'd rather be anywhere else in the world.

The third was a woman in her very early twenties, maybe not even. She looked to be anywhere from eighteen to twenty two, especially with the _New Rome University_ bag by her feet under the table. Her curly blonde hair was in a ponytail and hanging over her shoulder. Her grey eyes were looking down at her phone, and she was reading through something, as she kept scrolling. Weird, she was the only person I'd seen with a phone since the fire. She seemed kind of anxious as well, with dark circles under her eyes. She would periodically look up, make eye contact with the lonely boy at the blue table, and then look down again.

The first man cleared his throat again, and silence fell completely.

"Most of our summer campers, as you know, arrived on the fifth of June this year. There were a few sidetracks, but I'm relieved to say, as of today, all of our campers have arrived safe and sound, except for a few minor injuries. But those, unfortunately, are a natural part of the recruitment process. We have a few new arrivals this year. Lindsey Morgeson, Erin Kahn, and Darren Foster, we hope you have a wonderful stay this summer and possibly beyond. You can stop by during dinner tonight to watch the orientation film if you feel like you need assistance. I digress, the games on Friday will proceed as planned despite recent, ehm, predicaments, and all training will continue as normal for today onward. On that note," he raised his cup, " _To the gods!_ "

Everyone in the pavilion repeated the chant.

Uncle Greg stood up.

"Hullo to the new campers, I guess…what was it, Lizzy, Eric, and Daniel?"

The first man nudged him.

"Hmmm?" Uncle Greg said. "Oh, yes, Lindsey, Erin, and…what did you say? Doug? Darren, yes. Dylan."

Forget about a _little_ too much champagne.

The boy next to me on the floor who hadn't paid me any attention (that I'd seen) up until now nudged my arm.

"That's Mr. D. Camp Director."

I nodded.

"I'm Jake, by the way." He extended his hand. Tentatively, I shook it.

"Erin."

His hands were small and his fingers thin, and he was constantly fidgeting. He was short and scrawny. His eyes were blue, but not any sort of pretty blue. His nose was pointed, and the bridge thin. His cheekbones were defined harshly, his chin looked thin and sharp. His ears were slightly pointed, kind of like a Christmas elf's, and he kept grinning at me. It lit up his face and made his boring blue eyes interesting.

"I guess you'll be staying in the Hermes cabin tonight," he said.

"The _what_ cabin?"

"Hermes. My dad."

"Weird name."

"I guess. He's Greek."

I could literally _feel_ him messing with me.

"Yeah," I said.

At that moment the conch horn sounded again and everybody stood up.

"Where's everyone going?" I asked.

"Training," Jake responded, stacking his plate onto the pile at the end of the table, he took mine, put it on the top, winked at me (I'm serious—an actual _wink_ ) and jogged away.

"Thanks for the information," I muttered, running to keep up with him. I saw Colin with the tall blonde girl from earlier, and walk over to them, thinking that Colin can help me.

"Oh, hey Erin!" He says. The other girl waves and adjusts a long leather sheath attached to her belt.

"This is Lindsey."

"You're one of the new campers, right?"

"Not really," Lindsey said. "I got here last week."

 _You try to make a connection, it gets squashed._

"Oh."

Colin turned to me. "Do you want to follow my schedule for today? Because, you know, you don't have one yet. It would be kind of like a mini tour, too. I'll get Maya to come with us. Sam, too. You know them, right? We're friends, actually. Lindsey, you should come, too—"

"Yeah, no thanks. I'll go with my siblings, actually."

Lindsey ran to a group of taller, buffer, rowdier kids that were going off faster than the other groups.

"Ares kids," Colin mused, "Always so distant."

"You mean like the zodiac sign?" I asked.

"No," he said. "Like, the god. You know, Ares, Greek god of war. Those are his kids."

"Whatever."

Colin looked around for a few seconds.

"Oi, Maya! Get Sam, we're taking Erin on a tour!"

Maya appeared in a few seconds.

"Here and ready to serve," she said breathlessly, giving me a little salute. Sam appeared a few seconds later.

"Same," he said.

"Where to first?" Colin asked.

"Archery?" Maya suggested.

"Why not?"

"So this is like, a normal summer camp. With marshmallows and archery and friendship bracelets and scrapbooks," I cut in. Sam started to laugh.

"No, no. This camp might end up getting you killed, actually."

I wasn't sure if he was joking. "Okay."

Long story short: I'm _okay_ at archery. Maya's a complete rockstar, as is Colin. But they were nothing compared to a few kids out there. I didn't suck (like Sam does) but I wasn't anywhere close to Sam, or Maya, and I _definitely_ wasn't like those other kids.

"I have ancient Greek next," Maya said. "You?"

"Monster Identification training," Colin answered. "Sam?"

"Greek history."

They all looked at me. There was the temptation of the awesome-sounding monster identification class, but the equally strong temptation of following Maya. In the end, my nerdiness won out over my (small, but growing) crush.

"Monster Identification."

"Score!" Colin said. "Right this way."

It was held in the dining pavilion, since they didn't have real classrooms at this…whatever it was. Everyone sat down at tables and listened to a counselor list different features, and then call on someone to identify the monster and tell how to kill it. _This would be great,_ I thought, _if we were training for a D &D championship. But in real life? Not so much…But then again, Mr. Scotts…_

Colin didn't seem to be very good in this class (I had no idea what they were talking about, either), but he seemed to be having fun—and maybe even learning.

After that class let out, Maya and Sam met us back outside the pavilion.

"I go to the arena for weapon's training," Maya said.

"I have ancient Greek," Sam said.

"And I have either canoeing or footracing," Colin said.

I caved in to my interests this time.

The arena was a big sand pit lined by low brick walls. It had a giant shed outside of it, where Maya said I would be able to pick a weapon soon. I wasn't sure why that excited me so much. We sat on a bench near the wall and waited for everybody else in the class to get there. When everybody did, the counselor started to speak. It was the lonely guy from the blue table!  
"Hi, to any new campers," he began. "I'm Jason Grace, son of Jupiter and or Zeus, depending on your origins, and I'll be your combat instructor. Raise your hand if you don't have your own weapon."

I was the only one who raised my hand. Jason looked at me, then at Maya next to me.

"Since most of the class has weapons, is it alright if we start without you? Maya can help you find a weapon."

"Yeah, sure," I said. I let Maya lead me to the shed outside. Lesson Number One: the shed outside the arena does not, in fact, house gardening tools. It is filled with deadly weapons.

The weapons were amazing, ranging anywhere from archaic swords to modern shotguns. Maya had me try out anything that caught my eye, and we eventually found out I had a tendency to pick swords over knives or bows. Something shone brightly from the corner. It was a sword, and the bit that was unsheathed glowed in the shadows. The sheath was plain and made of soft brown leather, pliable and comforting, with a cord for my waist. I tied it into my belt and tried the sword handle in my hand.

"You like it?" Maya asks. The way the leather grip stuck to my bandaged palm was satisfying, and it felt balanced and _right_ in my hands. I jumped when Maya put her hand on top of mine, warm, soft, and gentle.

She moved my thumb and rearranged my fingers. She stood up behind me in the way Alexa had that day at the hospital and moved my feet, my arms, and my torso. When she corrected my stance and told me what I had been doing wrong, she spoke directly into my ear. I could hear her smiling.

"Good. You hold that like a natural."

"Oh… um, thanks."

"Do you wanna keep looking? Or do you like that one?"

"I think I'm good now, actually," I said. Maya nodded.

"I'm not sure if class is over yet or not. We should go check before we go to lunch."

When we went out to the arena, no one was there. Decapitated dummies from the class were shoves in a corpse pile in the corner, but no living thing remained.

"Hey…Maya, what's your weapon?"

"Hm?" Maya was looking through a knife rack on this other side of the arena. "Oh, I have a knife." She reached down to a rip in the calf of her jeans and pulled out a dagger with an eight inch blade.

"The slit's a pocket. I have one in all my pants, you know."

"Intimidating."

"I am?"

"Sure. Knife-wielding girls are always pretty scary."

"Met a lot of knife-wielding girls, eh?"

She always had something to say.

"A few."

"C'mon. Lunch awaits."


	4. PSA

Hey, MortalOracle here (I mean, you probably knew that, but whatever) with a HUGE ANNOUNCEMENT!

I'm stopping writing this story...for a few weeks until I know enough people actually want it.

What's the point in dumping effort out on this fic if no one's gonna read it, ya know?

Leave a review or PM me if you think I should continue, and mention this to your friends!

THANKS and I love you all

-Me


	5. Chapter 3, My Friends Decide to Leave Me

I sat next to Jake at lunch, and ate in silence. I didn't really want him messing with me again. I was already too confused, I wouldn't know what was a joke and what wasn't. A camp that taught ancient Greek and trained kids with weapons? _Really?_

After lunch, Sam tapped my shoulder before I could walk away.  
"Hey, wanna come riding with me?" He said.

"You mean, like—" I was about to say "horses", but I figured at the last second that would be stupid. Of course we would be riding horses. What else would we be riding? Emus? I suddenly had an image of Sam clinging onto an emu's back and almost started to laugh. I had made up my mind.

"Yeah, sure," I said. Sam grinned.

"Awesome! C'mon."

He led me across the field with the giant hearth in the middle, the one surrounded by cabins. For the first time I noticed the little girl by the heart, she had to be somewhere from eight to ten, and her face was almost invisible under her large brown blanket. It went over her head and shoulders, and down her back to fan out in a wrinkly fabric puddle around her feet.

She must've sensed that I had been staring, because she looked straight up at me. Her eyes were made of _fire._ Like, literal flames inside her eye sockets. But she didn't seem threatening, more warm and inviting. I realized I had stopped to stare and we had been making eye contact for way too long, and that she probably thought I was rude. Sam hadn't noticed I had stopped, so I had to run to catch up with him. I waved at the girl, and mentally promised I would come back to talk to her later.

Sam I didn't talk until we got to the mouth of the giant woods. Then he turned to me. "Technically you have to be armed to go in here, but…" His eyes flickered down to my waist. "Oh, you found one! Cool. Okay, then, never mind."

The trail in the woods didn't look dangerous, as it was warm and sunny and smelled of pine and wildflowers. I heard a creek in the distance, accompanied by the breeze ruffling the tops of the trees, and… laughter? Sure enough, giggles could be heard from behind trees, but when I turned around no one was there. Little tufts of breeze brushed against my cheek like a hand, and then pulled away quicker than lightning as soon as I moved.

As pretty as all this was, I couldn't help feeling on edge the whole time. Flashes of white and purple fabric caught in my peripherals, and the smell of perfume wafted overhead, along with something else more sinister. Reptiles. Hissing could be heard on the edge of my senses every so often, and I could see that it even made Sam jump.

"You know, they've all left. It's just snakes and frogs now, _booooring_ ," A girl's voice said from my left. Both Sam and I snapped to look for the source. A giant, golden-yellow mushroom was sprouting from the dirt by a pine tree, and a girl in a pale lilac ancient-Greek style dress sat on top, cross legged and not wearing shoes. She looked young, maybe eight or nine. Her eyes were big and strikingly dark green, almost black. Her hair was curly and reddish-brown, and that was when I noticed her skin was a pale green.

"Enoki, that's not very nice." An older girl stepped out from behind the pine tree, her skin dark olive-green and her hair straight and brown.

"What, frogs are boring. I can't help it." She turned her attention to me. I looked at Sam out of the corner of my eyes, and he was smirking.

"Why are you staring?" She said. "I was trying to tell you there _aren't_ anymonsters here. Why do you looked so freaked out?"

"Uh…you're green," I said. The younger girl rolled her eyes.

"Yeah, 'course I am. And you're yellow."

"…That's not politically correct anymore, actually."

She glared at me, then, in a spot-on impression of my voice, _"You're green."_

"Sorry."

"Uh-huh."

"So…why _are_ you green?"

"Why are you yellow?"

"I'm Chinese!"

"And I'm a nymph. Nymph's are green. Duh."

Sam grabbed my wrist and began to tug me down the trail.

"They're fickle, especially the young ones. I don't know if she'll decide to hex you or not, so we're leaving."

I let him drag me along the rest of the trail.

Sam mused about what Enoki had said as he was dragging me along, sort of under his breath.

"Strange, actually, how there's no monsters right now." He turned to me. "Where do you think they all went?"

"Hell," I answered, sarcastically.

"Could be."

We rounded a corner by another giant pine tree and in front of us was a huge wooden building. A few breathy whinnies from horses, like when you make your lips limp and blow through them really softly.

A girl who was around eighteen or nineteen, with frizzy blonde hair in pigtails and big blue eyes was washing tack, and I could smell the citrus-scented soap from meters away. Sam called out, "Lacy!" and she looked up, surprised.

"Oh, hey, Sam." She smiled at me. "You're new. Undetermined, I'm guessing?"

I didn't know what that meant, but Sam covered for me.

"Yeah, and she's not leaning anywhere in particular, really."

Lacy directed her attention back to me and studied my face, and then drew her eyes over the rest of my body.

"Not that you're unattractive, but I don't think you're an Aphrodite kid."

Again, I didn't know what that meant.

"No problem," I said.

Lacy put down her sponge and dipped the tack into a bucket of water, then motioned with her chin to the other side of the stable. She grabbed a towel and started to dry her tack as we followed her and she rambled about their "riding facilities".

"They're not in the _best_ condition," she wrinkled her nose. "They certainly could use an extreme home makeover, but that's beside the point. They get cleaned a lot less often now that Percy isn't here." She laughed, "Blackjack certainly isn't happy about that."

Lacy opened the large, barn-like door to the stables. Inside it smelled like saw dust, must, and horse crap. Lacy breathed in happily. "Eau de Equestria," she said. "My favorite."

I took time to look over the stables, and almost had a heart attack.

"That horse has wings," I noted (oh, how extremely conversational am I).

Lacy nodded. "Uh-huh, that's Porkpie Junior." The horse's coat was caramel brown, with spots of white, and he seemed to be _smirking_ at me.

"And that's Blackjack, but I don't think you should ride him."

Lacy was pointing to a pure black stallion horse (with wings, of course) in one of the darker, corner stalls. The tips of his wings were tinged with silvery grey, as well as the fur around his muzzle and hooves.

"He's pretty old, and only lets Percy ride him, anyway."

I wanted to ask who Percy was, but didn't want to sound dumb. I just hoped someone would explain it.

"And we also have Norman, Clytemnestra, Pat—named after Patroclus, obviously—Hector…who surprisingly gets along very well with Pat, despite being named after his murderer. Then there's Maximus. Yes, he is named after the horse from _Tangled,_ and I wouldn't recommend riding him. He's a bit, uh… precocious."

She turned to me. "So, who'll it be?"

I shrugged. "I dunno. I wasn't expecting ride a flying horse, believe it or not."

"Pegasi," Lacy corrected, "And you don't have to fly…especially if it's your first time! Oh, gods, that would actually just end really badly…"

Sam had already walked over to (who I think was) Hector and was getting fresh tack off the wall. Lacy wrapped a rough, short-fingered hand around my elbow and pulled me towards the one I believed to be Norman. She pulled my hand towards his mouth and I could feel the heat radiating when he exhaled.

"C'mon," she said. "He's nice."

I tried to stop my hand from shaking, but it wouldn't, and I was surprised Lacy could be so calm. This was a freaking _horse_ with _wings_.

I put my hand on the horse's muzzle and immediately jerked away.

Lacy took my hand and put in back, gently, because she was giving me leeway to move if I wanted to. I didn't move, but I _definitely_ wanted to.

Lacy let my hand fall back.

"Do you just wanna watch today? I can tell you how to use tack and everything."

I was glad for the excuse.

"Yeah, sure. Thanks."

What I Learned From Lacy in the Stable

-Pegasi, not Pegasus, because they are his less-powerful offspring

-Pegasi take after their father and despise bridles, so all you can use is bit reins

-Washing saddles is hell

-Cleaning stables is hell

-Cleaning horses is hell

-In fact pretty much everything in the stables is hell

-It's fabulous

After about three fourths of an hour, Four solid _thumps_ resonated throughout the stable, and Sam dropped down from the top of the door frame, his blond hair in a complete rat's nest and a smear of white on his shoulder. A pegasi dropped down behind him.

"Bird poop on your shoulder," Lacy said.

"Great." He turned to me. "Pegasi expert now or what?"

He honestly looked like a stereotypically "mad" scientist with the hair.

"What," I responded, trying to laugh.

Lacy put a hand on my shoulder.

"Anyway, if you ever want to ride for real, and I'm not here, find me in cabin ten, the Aphrodite one. You've met my sister, Maya, right?"

"Yeah, actually I have."

"She's a sweetheart…but not a counselor, so she can't help. Well, see you around, Sam."

"See you."

I followed Sam out of the stable.

He walked backwards along the trail, grinning at me with his arms out.

"Cool?"

"Cool."

"Meet me and Maya at the dock?"

"I don't know where—"

He took off down the trail.

Maya was sitting on the edge of a large, square shaped dock that was almost touching the shore of the lake. According to Sam it was tied down so it didn't float away, but it still shifted sometimes and after it rained it looked like it was floating. Although apparently it hardly ever rained unless the strawberry fields were dry, because of the camp's protective barriers.

Maya had her knees pulled up to her chin and her hair in a braid down her back. Sam sat down next to her. She immediately turned to him.

"Don't you have classes?"

"Yeah. But it's your free period, so I wanted to hang out with you and Erin."

"Ditching class. Some son of Athena you are."

"You love me."

She turned away.

He put his arms around her shoulders and said, maybe a little too dramatically, "Maya, you have to love me! I would _die_ without you! Maya…!"

I saw her smile a little before shoving him off of her.

"You have bird shit on your shoulder, don't touch me!"

Sam cackled.

"I _will_ push you in."

"Go—go ahead," Sam said between laughs.

His head poked out of the water, sputtering. He tugged on Maya's ankles.

"Join me, my love."

She tried to kick his face, but Sam ducked. "Yeah, no. And your hands are cold. You're like a corpse."

"That's racist."

"No, _that_ was racist."

"You're not supposed to be smarter than me."

"I think the real criteria is that you're not supposed to be more stupid than me."

"Parental restrictions…that's the true Hades."

Sam suddenly became very serious. He pulled himself up onto the dock next to Maya and waved me over.

"Erin, I need you for backup." He turned to Maya. "There's no monsters left in the woods today."

Maya looked bewildered. "Where'd they all go, then?"

"I don't know…they're allowed to leave camp whenever they want as long as they exit through the woods and come back through the woods, right?"

"Yeah, but they never actually _leave._ What would katoblepone want in Long Island?"

The question was meant to be rhetorical, but Sam thought it over. Then his eyes widened.

"What if they don't want something in Long Island?"

"Yeah, that's what I just—"

"No! What if they want something _outside_ Long Island?"

Maya's expression was blank. Sam looked like he might pee his pants.

"Calihan's Energy Principle!" He was practically shouting.

"What's that?" Maya was starting to look very confused, and honestly, I agreed with her.

"You know, about half a year ago, Malcom—you know him, my brother—worked with Stormy Calihan—daughter of Hephaestus—to make the—"

Maya cut him off, her face lit up with epiphany. "The _Ithacan Core!_ "

"Yeah, and they called the recycling process it used the Calihan Energy Principle."

"Why do you know this?"  
"I helped, duh! Don't you remember when I told you about it? …'Course you don't."

"So you know how it works?"

"Yeah, when Malcom and Stormy set it up—I don't know where, somewhere up north I think—they had to turn off the tracking symbol so no one could trace it back to camp. No one knows it's condition. It was fairly faint when they left. But the whole thing must've gotten some sort of energy spark, making it stronger. Like, a _lot_ stronger. And that would make it unusable, kind of like cords that are conducting too fast."

Maya seemed to understand. "So it's attracting monsters—"

"But can't destroy them to turn into energy for camp. _Exactly._ "

"Someone needs to destroy it, then."

"Definitely."

"We should take this to Chiron."

They both stood up. Maya looked over her shoulder. "Erin, you coming?"

"Wouldn't be much help. I have no idea what's going on."

"We'll explain later," Sam said. "C'mon."

I followed them to the big blue farm house near the strawberry fields.

We walked onto the porch and opened the door, but the main room was completely empty. Loud voices were coming from down the hall.

"Apparently they're having a meeting," Sam said. "Listen in?"

"We're not allowed to," Maya responded, rolling her eyes.

"I am aware of that."

"Fine, fine, listen in."

They were talking so loudly we didn't even have to move to hear them. I had no idea what anything meant, but soon Sam turned back to me and said, "They're debating a quest. Now they're giving recommendations." He turned to Maya. "Lacy recommended you! …Oh. She got turned down. Now they're talking about…Malcom and Stormy? They already know, then. Great. This was useless." He was about to walk away when he stopped.

"They just said my name." He took a step closer to the door.

"Kira's recommending me!" He whisper-squealed. "And no one's said no yet."

A slam sounded from the other room, and then the scratching of chairs against wood as people stood up.

"Oh gods, we have to get out," Sam said, dodging around Maya and me to get to the door. We both scrambled to get out after him.

With our backs against the side wall of the farmhouse, Sam briefed us on what he heard.

"They're gonna announce the quest soon. At dinner in…" He checked his bulky, blue, waterproof watch. "About an hour. I think I'm leading it."

"You're only fifteen."

"Has that ever stopped anyone before? Percy Jackson took a quest at twelve."

"You're not Percy Jackson."

There was that name again. Percy Jackson. Also, Sam was fifteen? I always thought he was younger than me, maybe thirteen. But apparently not. It never occurred to me he could be older.

"Wow. Rude."

Maya smirked at him. It was astounding how different she acted towards Sam as opposed to me. "Who're you taking?"

"I was thinking Lindsey… and you, if you're up for it?" His voice rose to a squeak at the end.

" 'Course I'm up for it! …Athena, Ares, and Aphrodite. Weird combination, but it could work."  
I tried not to feel even a little offended. It made perfect, one hundred percent sense that Sam wouldn't want to take me. First of all, I didn't know—like everyone else seemed to—which "god" I was connected to. I had no training, and they had known me less than a day. And I had already developed a crush on Maya. _Great._

And now the only friends I had made so far were going to leave. I supposed I could hang out with Colin or Alexa, but I didn't think either of them would want me around. I felt like Colin was only nice to me because Alexa was so mean—at first, that is.

"What're we doing until dinner?" Maya asked.

Sam shrugged. "Wild sex in the woods?"

Maya rolled her eyes. "Yeah, no."

"Never forget…" Sam whispered, jokingly.

Maya turned to me. "Do you want to go learn to use that sword of yours?"

"Uh…Yeah, sure."

She grinned. "Great. Arena it is. I'm pretty sure there's not a class in there right now, especially since Jason was just at the counselor's meeting."

Right, Jason, the weapons' instructor.

I followed Maya in the direction of the arena. She called over her shoulder for Sam to follow.

The arena wasn't as hot as before, since the sun wasn't as high in the sky, but the sand had still retained warmth that shot up the veins in my legs like little electric wires.

Maya pulled her knife from the slit in her jeans and twirled it around her index finger, using the handle as an axis. The smirk she gave me made me want to draw my sword.

"En garde."


	6. Chapter 4, I Don't Even Play Basketball

At dinner, the quest was announced. Sam took it. Maya and Lindsey accepted, and that was that. Jake was sitting with someone else, some 'undetermined' girl named Emma at the same beige table I was sitting beside now. I was alone.

Maya, Lindsey, and Sam were to leave the next morning, and were told by Chiron to pack their things tonight and get rest, so I didn't get to talk to them. I sat under the beige flag at the campfire, ate an unholy amount of marshmallows, and listened to a bunch of out-of-tune teenagers sing about their grandparent's armor for war. You know, normal things.

I went back to the herpes—sorry, Hermes—cabin with Jake, who was still talking to this Emma girl, hand gestures and batteries included, and found that there was literally no place to sleep. Every bunk was taken—some with multiple people. The entire floor, for all intents and purposes, was completely covered in sleeping bags, backpacks, pillows, sheets, books, kids, and weapons. I shrunk into the corner.

"Ay, kid—Erin, right? Yeah." A boy who must've been anywhere from seventeen to twenty-three came over to me and took my arm. There was no such thing as personal space here. "Hi, I'm Connor, half-head counselor of the Hermes cabin. I think we can clear a space right over… _oi!_ Leave Ben _alone!_ Yeah, good, back off." Connor turned back to me. " _Anyway_ , right here." He had lead me over to one of the corners of the cabin, right near where a small hallway lead to two bathrooms. He kicked aside some sheets that were obstructing the spot and handed me a canvas backpack.

"This has some basic toiletries, you know, toothbrush, tampons, that kind of thing, as well as some clothes, and _this,_ " he handed me a rolled-up blanket, "is a blanket. Duh." Connor grinned. "Well, enjoy your stay!"

I rolled up my blanket, and was setting up shop (as in, adjusting my one pack to make it look more homely) when Connor appeared again.

"You might not want to let that out of your sight," he said, "you know, Hermes being the god of thieves, and all. Some of us are undetermined, such as yourself, Emma, and Ben," (How did he remember all these names?) "but others of us are children of Hermes. So, watch your own back, Erin."

I hugged my backpack to my chest as I slept.

" _Hey, what the Hell_?"

" _Oh my gods, what is that?"_

" _I swear, if someone rigged the light system again, I'll—"_

" _SHUT UP! Everyone, be quiet!"_

I snapped awake when Connor yelled 'shut up', because _damn_ that kid was loud. I stared around the room, and saw that everything was bathed in a harsh golden light, but it was strangely muted, like all the colors had gone down a few notches. I stumbled to sit up, to look around, and felt something on my face: A black pair of sunglasses. I was wearing basketball shorts and sandals along with my orange tshirt, and my skin was sparkling with golden flecks. Everyone was staring at me.

"I…I don't," I said, but before I could continue, some kid cut me off.

"Didn't know Apollo was into Asians."

Someone shushed them loudly.

"Well," Connor said, from a bunk I couldn't see, "that didn't last long. You'll be moving out tomorrow morning, I guess. Congrats, Erin. You're a daughter of Apollo."

"Um, no," I said stupidly, "I'm the daughter of William Miller and Hee Kahn. My birth father is dead."

A few snickers could be heard from various bunks, but they were quickly shushed, or cuffed, and before I could see what was happening (my golden light was starting to fade), Connor was kneeling in front of me.

"Nobody ever explained this to you, did they?" he asked. I shook my head. He nodded, like that was normal. "Clear out," he said to the people in front of the door, "Me and Erin are going on a field trip."

"To where?" Some kid who couldn't have been more than seven asked.

"Outside," Connor answered.

The cool outside air was so different after the stuffy feel of the Hermes cabin that I almost didn't believe I was on the same planet. Connor sat up on some of the fencing and patted the spot beside him. I didn't take it. He shrugged, as if he was saying, _your loss._

He said, "Don't freak out…but you're the child of the Greek god, Apollo."

"Um, okay," I said, deciding to just roll with the crazy. Honestly, it wasn't that weird at this point, after Mr. Scotts, the magically appearing camp, all these kids knowing how to fight, Calihan's Energy Principle, and Alexa and her creepy kidnapping magic.

"I know you don't believe me right now, but—wait, what do you mean, 'okay'?"

"Like, okay," I said, "I believe you."

Conner stared at me, like he expected more of a fight and was kind of put out.

"Dude," I started, laughing, "Within the last week I almost got killed by my math teacher who turned into some lizard thing, met a girl who morphed into a tree, saw another with fire in her _eyeballs,_ got kidnapped by someone using magic, and played peek-a-boo with an entire summer camp. The god thing isn't so weird."

"Well, then," he said, slowly slipping off the fence, "I guess…uh, any questions?"

"So, everyone here is a child of a god?"

He looked relieved, finally having something to explain. "No, some are satyrs—you know, like Mr. Tumnus, some are nymphs…either water, tree, or other, we have monsters, but I haven't seen any around lately. Weird. And we have Mr. D, who's quite literally a god himself, and Chiron, who's a centaur and the son of a titan. Also we have legacies, and we're working on a claiming system for them…but for now they just stay in here, hence why it's so crowded."

"Oh. Well, thanks."

He grinned. "No problem! If you promise not to leave the porch—harpies—than I'll leave you out here to assess your new life for a few minutes."

I nodded, just wanting to be alone. Connor headed back inside.

A few seconds after the door had clicked closed, there was some scuffling under the porch.

"Erin! Hey, Erin." A pale hand grabbed one of the bars of the porch and pulled. Sam's curly golden head popped up a few seconds later.

"C'mon. We're going outside camp for a little. You, Maya, and me."

"Uh. Okay," I said. I walked down from the porch.

 _OKAY. Present-tense Erin breaking in here. At the time, I didn't know that it was against the rules to leave camp. I thought this was perfectly normal! Cut me some slack._

Maya walked out from under the porch as well, holding a little plastic baggy that she tucked into her black fleece's pocket.

"Ambrosia," she told me, when I asked what it was. She tossed me my sword inside its soft leather sheath.

"You left it at the stables," Sam explained. _(Present-tense Erin again: I most definitely did NOT leave it at the stables!)_

"Oh. Thanks."

Maya grinned. "No problem!" Her brown eyes glowed amber in the torchlight. I found myself a little weak at the knees. Sam looped an arm around my shoulders.

"We decided," he said, stage whispering as we walked across the dewy cabins field, "that there was no better way to celebrate your first day—and claiming—than to get you some food besides the health kick crap camp offers."

I noticed I still had the basketball shorts, sandals, and sunglasses on. I wasn't sure I wanted to go out into public like that, but Sam and Maya didn't seem to care. They seemed to be in a bit of a rush, and were suspiciously sneaky, but I didn't really notice that at the time.

We got to the edge of camp, narrowly avoiding what Sam and Maya referred to as the harpies, just like Connor.

"Okay," Maya said, and shook out her limbs like she was preparing for something physically taxing. She took a deep breath, did a few jumping jacks (at this point, just for show), and walked up to the barrier that separated camp from the outside world. She put her hand on the barrier, like to check if it was still there. A ripple of blueish silver energy ran out from where her palm met the invisible wall, and she pressed on it.

"Okay," she said again, taking more deep breaths. She walked over to the doorless frame that functioned as a bit of a portal. She walked through, and stopped to pet the coiled dragon underneath the boughs of a large pine tree. She whispered something to it, and the dragon nodded off kind of like it was being sung to sleep. It didn't have any of the malicious qualities of Mr. Scotts, this was just an animal that wanted to protect that tree with the glittery towel in it, although I wasn't sure why. Maya grinned, said one last thing to the dragon, and then waved us over.

"Stellar," Sam said, once we were all on the other side.

"Peleus is easy," Maya claimed. "He's just a dragon."

"Oh," Sam said, making his voice high and offensively girly, "I can control giant reptiles with my voice, but it's no big deal!" He poofed his hair with the meat of his palm and batted his eyelashes. Maya slapped his arm.

"Hey, you gotta save your energy," Sam said. "We still have to get the car."

"True, true," Maya said, walking to the other side of the pine tree for something. "We didn't forget anything, _right,_ Sam?"

"No siree," Sam said.

"Good. And you remembered stuff for Erin?"

"Obviously."

"Fantastic." Maya came back around the other side of the tree, holding three Camp Half-Blood backpacks (as in, gaudy orange with black iron-on print), stuffed to bursting. She gave one to each of us, and regarded my confused expression.

"If we get attacked, this has some spare clothes, medical supplies, drachmas, mortal money, you know."  
"Drachmas?"

"Old Greek money," she said. "We can use them to send messages."

"Oh." I pretended I understood. "Right."

Maya laughed a little. "No one expected you to know that. In fact, we probably should've taken you to see the orientation film. Well, too late for that now," she grabbed my arm and started to tug me down the hill.

 _Too late for that now? What's_ that _supposed to mean?_

We stumbled onto the open road, where an empty blue Camaro was waiting, the door open, and the keys on the gray leather seat.

"Sweet," Sam said. "You have good taste, Maya."

"No," Maya said, "Andrew had good taste." When I asked Maya who Andrew was, she told me she'd explain later. I got in the car, setting my backpack down next to me in the back seat. Maya got in the passenger side, and Sam got in to drive.

"I have a learner's permit," he said proudly as he shut his door and put the key in the ignition.

"Great," I remarked, "someone who can actually drive." Sam flashed me a winning smile in the mirror before shifting the Camaro into gear. I wasn't bitter about Alexa crashing the Civic. Nope, not at all. (And it wasn't even my car.)

"So," I said, after we had been on the road for something close to half an hour. "Where are we headed?"

"Maine," Maya answered.

If I had had liquid in my mouth, I would've done a spit-take. "Excuse me?"

"Yeah," Maya said, "Hampden, Maine."

"Why?" My voice rose to a squeak.

"The quest," Maya said simply.

"The _quest?_ You just tricked me into coming on your quest with you?"

"Yeah."

"Guys!" I jiggled the handle of my door, but it wouldn't unlock. I tried to pull up the manual lock, but it was stuck.

"Child control," Sam said from the front.

I settled back into my seat and growled. "This is the second time I've been kidnapped by people my own age, and I'm not very happy about it. I hate you."

"Nah," Sam said. "You don't."

"I do. I'll gut you like a fish."

Sam cackled as he turned onto a new street.


	7. Chapter 5, Meme Trash

"Okay," I said, "but what about Lindsey?"

"Hm? Oh, Lindsey Shmindsey," Sam answered. Fair enough.

"And how do you know to go to…wait, where are we going?"

"Hampden," Maya said.

"Right. Hampden. How."

Sam laughed a little. "Okay, so, get this, right? Malcolm picked up the Athena cabin after Annabeth left for college, so he had the head counselor's bunk, which really isn't even a bunk—it's huge. So I just walk in there, take a look around, and since the kid is so goddamn organized I just look in the 'I' folder under his bed and—ta-da—there's the file on the Ithacan Core. Set up in Hampden, Maine in two thousand and eleven, including pictures, and—fun fact—did you know that by two thousand thirteen, the Ithacan Core would most likely have destroyed over a thousand monsters?"

Maya handed me a pristine manila envelope. I opened it, and dumped the lump of papers onto my lap. Sorting through, I realized most of these papers were essentially useless. They were creation logs and a thin, brown, moleskin journal I didn't both to read, selfies of Malcolm and Stormy taken on scenic New England views, and a sketch of a huge, dilapidated wooden mansion covered in ivy and with certain rooms (out of the twenty-eight) that were highlighted.

"What's this?" I said, holding up the sketch for Sam and Maya to see. Maya shrugged. Sam said, "We think it's the location, but it might also be a mock setting, and we don't know the address of that particular house." The car glided to a stop in front of a red light, so Sam twisted to face me, with his chin on the shoulder of the seat. "There's a ton like that in Maine."

"And by we," Maya said, "he means himself, because he didn't invite me to go snooping through Malcolm's things."

"You still showed up."

"I helped."

"Sure."

One of the last few papers were different angled pictures of the same object: a cylinder, about the size of a pencil but a few inches thicker, glowing blue in a dark room. The walls were of illuminated rotting wood, and the carpet almost smothered the light entirely.

In the next picture, the object changed scenery—outside, at the mouth of a forest. A looming shadow travelled behind the picture-taker, whose hands seemed to be trembling. The quality was awful.

"That's the Core?" I asked, a little skeptical. I had always thought it would be bigger, like a huge, clunky generator or something. The object in the file was basically just a glow stick.

"Yeah," Sam said, "Malcolm always has to have things look pretty."

"Huh," I said, "I don't think I've ever seen him. He's supposed to be head counselor, right?"  
Sam looked in the mirror darkly. "Nobody's seen him for years." When I looked at him in horror, he quickly said, "I'm kidding, jeez, Erin. He's at some prodigy high school for technical engineering."

"And he should be," I said, looking back over Malcolm's blueprints. The Ithacan Core was mind-blowingly complex, yet refreshingly simple.

"Maybe," Sam mused, "but nothing's usable if it breaks."

"That might not have been Malcolm's fault," Maya pointed out. Sam shrugged.

"I…" he said, his voice cracking a little on the end, "I just… I need gas."

"Oh, my gods," Maya muttered, slapping Sam's shoulder as he dissolved into laughter. "Oh my gods!"

"What, what?" I asked. "What's going on?"

"Every—single—time," Maya said, hitting Sam again for every word, "that I get—close—to an—emotional—outlet—he just—says—something—so— _dumb!_ " She stopped hitting him and took a deep breath. "It aggravates me."

"Sorry," Sam said, parking at the gas station and removing the child control (I can't believe they didn't trust me to not swan dive out of the car until now).  
"Sure," Maya said, imitating Sam from earlier. Sam stuck his tongue out at her, in between his grin. She reciprocated. Sam shut the door behind him with his orange backpack on his shoulder and went to check what kind of fuel 'Andrew' used in his car.

"If we use diesel, it'll blow up, right?" Sam called.

"Yeah, I think so," Maya said back. Then added, "Hoe, don't do it."

"I wasn't _going_ to!" But we could both see Sam putting the diesel hose back into the pump. Maya smiled a little as she leaned her seat back. " _Dork_ ," she mumbled. "Get us food!" she said, louder for Sam to hear. He flipped off the two of us as he walked to the convenience store section of the gas station.

As someone who had only been either of the two's friend for a day and a half (oh, look how trusting I've become), I didn't think it was really my place to ask the question I did next, but my curiosity got the best of me.

"Do you like him?"

Look, sue me, okay? Just no more than fifty cents. I can't afford that.

Maya looked back at me like she had just remembered I was there, which I tried not to let hurt my feelings. "I guess? Sure."

"That's not very 'sure'-sounding."

"I mean…" Maya said, glancing at where Sam disappeared into the convenience store. "Yeah. I like him. But I don't think…I don't think he _works_ like I do." She paused, looking confused. "You know what I mean?"

"Sure."

She smiled at me, halfway between a smirk and a genuine grin.  
"Maybe 'sure' will be our always."

"Sure," I responded.

She raised a hand to punch me, but she was smiling.

"What about you?" she asked, settling back into her seat, only making eye contact with me in the mirror.

"What about me?" I answered, although I knew exactly what she meant. She rolled her eyes. I was starting to get the feeling there was Public Maya, and then there was Friend Maya.

Public Maya was as sweet as they come, kind and considerate, and never said a word against anyone. Friend Maya was the kind of sarcastic asshole that could get you detention for a _week_ just by aiding them in one of their many schemes. I was currently her number one associate for her latest scheme.

"I mean, do you like him? Or…or anyone else?"

It took pretty much all of my willpower not to look away from her, and I ended up shrugging. "I've literally known all you people for less than a week. I think it's good I don't get too attached yet."

She nodded. "That makes sense." She leaned forward, bringing the scent of something ambiguously warm and sugary with her. "Anyone else before camp? Like, in your—"

I cut off, "—real—"

"— _mortal_ life," she said, looking at me pointedly. I shrugged again.  
"I didn't really have a lot of friends, believe it or not."

Maya nodded vigorously. "Most demigods are pretty distant, what with being half deity. I was the same way."

"Was?" It had never occurred to me that Maya had been in normal school like me, at least at one point in her life.

"Yeah. I don't talk about the 'was'. Sam doesn't, either. Let's just say…some parents can't deal with having to raise a demigod."

"Maybe that's why you make such good friends?"

Maya shrugged. She reached across the seat to unlock the doors and let Sam in. When he sat down, she turned to him.

"Password?"

Sam grinned. "Baby hedgehogs."

"The second password?" Maya asked.

"Arugula."

"You pass." Maya faced me once again. "It's so we know we're not about to be killed by a _pereclid_."

"A ditto," Sam explained. "And the story behind the passwords is that a, baby hedgehogs are quite literally the best things ever, and b, arugula is the most random word we could think of."

Sam tossed a granola bar and some Oreos back to me, along with some more vitamin water. _What was the big deal with vitamin water?_

"I hope I didn't get anything that you hate. Or, you know, that'll kill you."

"S'okay, you're good. Also, walnuts," I responded, "and coconuts, weirdly enough."

"Damn it," Sam said, pulling out of the gas station, "my favorite food is walnuts in coconut milk, like cereal."

Maya snickered to herself. "Also," she mumbled, " _deez nuts_."

Sam stopped the car by the side of the road. He unlocked the doors.

"That was one too many meme references. Get out," he said.

"Free country," Maya responded.

" _Out!_ "

"You know, there's a meme I could use to respond to that."

Sam sighed, and started up again on the highway.


	8. Chapter 6, Bang-ger

Sam took an unpardoned swig of my milkshake. I swatted his hand away, stealing it back and narrowing my eyes at him in faux disdain.

"How can you forbid me to steal your chilly, dairy desserts when I did not forbid you to steal my heart?"

"Maya's right."

Sam studied me strangely.

"You need a fedora," I finished.

Sam gave me possibly the most disgusted look I'd ever seen. "But I bought that. I get tax."

"It's a gift. You don't get tax from _presents_."

Sam sighed theatrically. " _Details_."

I leaned my head against the window lining one side of our booth table, and took a sip of frozen minty goodness.

"Wish they had this brand in Florida," I remarked, kind of not filtering.

"Gifford's is magical," Sam agreed. "Not in New York, either."

I took another sip, adding a french fry to my mouth before I swallowed. Sam scrunched up his face.

"I don't get how that can possibly taste good."

I shrugged, and said, mouth full, "I don't get it either. But it _does_."

Sam shivered. "I'm not trying it."

I took another fry. "Good."

Maya dropped a stack of maps and pamphlets down onto the table. She slid into the booth next to me and took my milkshake, taking a long sip. Sam looked outraged when I didn't say anything.

"Well," she said, "Public transportation up through Bangor is expensive as Hell—" an old server with sapphire earrings gave us a trim glance, but didn't say anything, "—but I don't want to steal another car."

"What does 'as Hell' entail, exactly?" Sam questioned.

Maya grimaced. "Like, all-of-our-money expensive."

"Yeesh."

"But Maine is huge," I added. "There's no way we can walk."

"We could get a ride with your dad," Sam said to me.

Maya shook her head vigorously. "Nope. No. Absolutely not."

"What's wrong with my dad?"

Maya shrugged. "Nothing. He just… he came to camp last summer, as a—"

"—We're not allowed to talk about that!" Sam cut off.

"—Right," Maya said. "But he was always hitting on everyone, and making haikus and…" she shuddered, "horrible philosophy metaphors."

"The energy of the universe," I said, "is like a ring of dancers. It only ceases when—"

"—Like that," Maya said, snapping a hand over my mouth and fuming. "Exactly. We're _not_ catching a ride from him."

"Fair enough. …I don't remind you of him, do I?"

"Well, you didn't until you started talking about those universal energy dancers."

"And you said he hit on _everyone_. Like, even—"

"—Even boys, yeah." Maya gave me a very pointed look, as if daring me to say it was gross.

I shrugged. "That's not what I was going to ask, but s'great to know."

Maya studied me critically. "…What _were_ you going to say?"

"I was going to ask if he hit on his own children."

"Oh. No. I mean, unless he didn't remember they were his."

I made a noise halfway between a gag, a disappointed sigh, and a groan. Maya laughed uncomfortably.

"And I wouldn't care about the boy thing," I said. "It explains a lot, actually."

Sam and Maya's twin smirks were unnerving.

"So," I said, trying to shift the conversation. "Transportation to Bangor…?"

Sam got right back on track. "Right," he said. He pulled a map towards himself, and was about to start going on a planning spiel (in fact he had already started) when an old man seemingly popped up from the booth behind us and tapped his shoulder.

"I cuddin 'elp overhearin'," the old man said, completely running Sam over. Sam's voice died off and he turned to look, "that'cha need ter go ter Bangor?" He pronounced Bangor like 'bain-ger'.

The man was wearing a suit. Like, Oscars-level kind of suit. Bow tie, shiny black fabric, crisp and ironed… I didn't think he was exactly sane.

"Uh…" I said. "Yeah. We're going to Bangor."

"Nah, yer not," he said. Then he grinned, revealing quite a few missing teeth. "N'til _now_!" He held up four pieces of heavy-stamped cardstock. "Blam-o, tickets! Take 'em!"

I had two instinctive hands on my upper arms, like Sam and Maya were trying to put something between me and this possibly-crazy man.

He simply grinned even more.

Maya gave me a look of extreme warning, and a look to the man that could curdle blood. Sam gripped my arm tighter, his hand drifting towards his belt.

I looked straight at the man and smiled as best as I could.

"We'll take it."

I was squeezed in a subway seat, in between Maya and Sam. The strange man who gave us tickets and had suits but no dental insurance was on the other side of Maya. He kept giving us all really creepy grins.

"So," he whisper-yelled after a few minutes on the train. Our compartment, strangely, was empty. It was almost as if the weird dude had scared everyone away.

"So?" Maya asked.

"So," he said again. "Why ya headed to ban-ger?"

Sam's reply was clipped. "Visiting family."

"Well, that sure is convenient," he said. "So am I!"

"Who're you visiting?" I asked. Sam gave me a look that said, _why did you ask him a question?_ I shrugged.

"Oh, you know," he said. "…I _hope_ ya know, because I fer shur don't. I seem'ta have forgot their names. Or… or how they're related to me. I jus' know they're heroes."

"Veterans?" Maya asked. It wasn't a real question, it was a keep-him-talking-about-himself-so-he-doesn't-ask-about-us question.

"No, no," the strange man said. "They're not outta the war yet. Demigods."

There were a few moments of silence before Maya calmly got up, walked over to the other side of the car and sat down. Sam followed suit a few seconds later. I simply scooted a seat down.

"Come again?" I asked.

The man stuck his hand out to me. I shook it after staring at it for a few seconds and a shock ran up my arm, making me whip my hand back. He giggled uncontrollably as I nursed my burning palm.

"Name's Epimetheus!" he said, ripping off a wire that was taped to his arm under his suit sleeve. He slipped a tiny metal disk from his palm into his pocket before continuing, "Ya ever 'erd'a me?"

"Uh… no?" I said at the same time Sam said, "you're Prometheus' brother, right?"

Epimetheus wrinkled his nose. "Tech'i'ny, yeah. And 'a course ya herd'a me! You're allergic to pineapple."

Sam looked taken aback, so he went with what seemed to be the safest option: "…And?"

"And I'm Epimetheus!"

"Yeah."

"I invented the Epi-pen!"

"…Right."

Epimetheus grinned.

"Aren't you supposed to be, like, stupid though?" Maya asked.

Epimetheus turned to Maya, his grin replaced by a look of annoyance. "That's what happens when your brother's the famous one. Spreads all sorts'a rumors about ya and there's nothin' you can do about it."

"So…" I said after a few moments of silence, "who're you visiting?"

"Oh," Epimetheus said. "You."

"Excuse me?"

"Yeah. I was hopin' ter catch ya in Bangor, but I ran inta ya before, as ya can see. So I guess I'll jus' tell ya now."

"…Tell us _what_?" Maya asked.

Epimetheus gave us all another otherworldly grin. "That ya need to stop at the Zeller House, a'course."

The train stopped at another oddly abandoned station. As soon as we stepped off the train, it, Epimetheus, and the station disappeared, leaving us in an open, green field. We were left to wonder if the train had ever been real at all.

There were a few moments of silence as we stared at where the tracks used to be.

"Well, that was weird," Sam commented.

I nodded, staring at the ground at my feet. It was green and covered in clover and small blue wildflowers. It used to be rain-slick bricks.

That was another thing: the rain had disappeared. I looked up at the sky, and it was brilliantly blue. Not a single cloud. Epimetheus had taken the dark skies with him. I couldn't help but grin. Prometheus and Epimetheus were titans, I thought I remembered. Weren't titans supposed to be bloodthirsty and scary? They definitely weren't supposed to invent epipens and clear up rainclouds for lost teenagers. But, however improbably, Epimetheus had done it, and it was a refreshing change.

Maya was surveying the field. There wasn't a farmhouse in the distance, at the field didn't have any animals that I could see. I didn't even think it was fenced in, although we couldn't see the edges at all. It just stretched on forever.

"Trees," Maya said. "That way. Probably a border to a road."

She was running in that direction before we could negotiate, so we just followed.

By the time we caught up with her, she was pacing up and down the side of the road, only about ten feet each way.

"No traffic," Sam noted.

"Yeah," Maya answered, "but I don't like it."

"It's a farm road," I argued. "What did you expect?"

Maya shrugged. "City conditioning, I guess." She pointed across the (admittedly a little unnervingly empty) road to a farmhouse far on a hill in an identical field. "Do you think that's the place?" she asked.

"…The place?"

"The Zeller House," Maya explained. "Where Epimetheus told us to go."

"I don't know," I said honestly. Just as Maya sighed at my response, the sky crackled almost black. All three of us stared at the impossibly brilliant blue sky turned impossible dark impossibly fast.

"Damn titans," Maya growled. "Always pissing off gods and messing up my day."

"I don't think we have much time to complain," Sam said as the first raindrop hit my forehead.

Maya nodded, and they both took off across the road. After a few seconds of brain limbo, I followed.

I was such an idiot.

The last thing I wanted to do was run away. Maybe it was this new demigod thing, maybe I was just getting cocky, or maybe I was going insane, but I wanted to stay. Lightning was starting, tearing across the sky like a knife through fabric. Plasma oozed from the rips, creating bright arcs of electricity.

The thunder was like a bass drum in my ribcage. It seemed to match itself up with my heartbeat—no, that would be haughty. My heartbeat matched up with it, desperate to accompany something that powerful.

Maybe I was running too slow, maybe I wasn't running at all. Regardless, Sam ran back, grabbed my wrist, and tugged me along. His rain-slick fingertips slipped off my wrist every now and then, making him curse. It was drowned out by the torrents pounding against my ears and the thunder making its way down my spine.

The long grass of the field, especially when soaked like it was, was like blades. It whipped against my calves and stayed long enough to tear my skin, almost like it was biting me. I barely showed that I felt it.

That is, until we were inside the farmhouse.

We stood on the porch, shielded by an incredibly thing awning. Maya pounded on the door, until it swung open rather creakily. The inside was dark. There was a dusty plaque above the swollen wooden doorframe that read 'ZELLER'. There was a rock by the maggoty rocking chair on the corner off the porch carved with the words, '96 Zellers and Counting'.

Sam gestured towards the rock. "Sound like a reality show," he commented.

"Yeah," Maya said, but she wasn't really listening. She was staring into the foreboding, dark, seemingly empty farmhouse. "You think we should go in?" she asked.

Sam stared back out at the field. It was gradually turning into a mud pit. "Hell yeah," he said without his usual vigor. "They might have towels."

"Or clothes," I said, although I didn't particularly want to go into the farmhouse, it was better than hanging out with the larvae.

"It's settled, then," Maya said, although she didn't sound too excited. "We spend the night here."


End file.
